One after another
by Confused I Am
Summary: The stories of the first people that fall victim to the infection and the stories of many more that fell in the rise of the undead.
1. Officer Mallock

One after another.

Chapter one- Officer Mallock

John Mallock awoke to his alarm clock beeping at the side of him. The time read 4:30am, not long till work. John was a stocky and built 28 year old police officer in the NYPD. He hated his job, the people that he had to deal with day in and day out.

He took a quick shower, then styled his wavy brown hair into spikes, before grabbing his NYPD duffel bag full of all his gear. He climbed into his vehicle, a crimson red 84' Dodge Charger and placed his duffel bag on the passenger seat. He flicked through the local radio stations, stopping at one that caught his attention.

"Widespread panic is sweeping across the United States as the rioting continues to spread. Civil unrest has been spreading for the past week now, with little signs of it letting up. Local law enforcement agencies are using zero-tolerance policies on all suspected rioters. A spokesperson for the police association has said that rioters will face severe consequences and will face extreme prosecution. People are being advised to stay clear of city centres, and to avoid contact with any rioters. Ho-"

John flicked off the radio. He sighed loudly. He didn't need this shit when he was working, he hardly did anything when he worked as it is. Maybe now he would have to do real police work, maybe even get to shoot someone. He pulled in to the 37th Precinct parking lot, and made his way inside. The place was relatively calm, the phones ringing as usual, but the silence made it eerie. He went into the locker room and changed into his uniform, before going to the armoury and collecting his equipment. He then went out into the police parking and collected his Crown Victoria. He radioed his position to dispatch, acquired his patrol area and set off out.

John headed towards Times square, cursing at the traffic and tourists. He broke up a couple of fights, pulled over a few speeders on the expressway, before heading to the coffee shop for his lunch.

"What can I get you officer?" The fat waitress asked.

"A coffee and your special of the day, and hurry up with it, I don't have all day."

The waitress scoffed at him before walking off and fetching his order. He tucked into his soup, not paying much attention to the news warnings displayed on the TV. He left the mess for the waitress to clean up and left. He climbed back into his cruiser and set up a speed trap near the expressway. A black SUV came hurtling through the intersection, speeding through a red light and causing two cars to crash into each other, attracting onlookers and drunk people from the sidewalk, no doubt to cause trouble. John flicked on the overheads and the sirens and went after the SUV.

"Dispatch, unit 42 here, I got a speeding black 4 door SUV, currently heading Northbound, can I get additionals?" John radioed in.

"Negative 42, all units are currently engaged, you're on your own, out."

"Shit!" John cursed loudly. The vehicle pulled over, and John stepped out of his cruiser, his Glock 17 drawn and aimed towards the drivers head.

"Driver, step out of the vehicle now with your hands above your head and place them on the roof of the car."

The driver stepped out of the vehicle, his face pale and sweat dripping down his forehead. The sky turned overcast, casting dark shadows over the two men. The man ran to the officer, screaming words that John couldn't make out.

"Sir, you need to calm down and explain to me clearly what has happened."

The man slowed down, still fumbling with his hands. He composed himself and straightened his posture, before looking at the officer.

"Officer Mallock, a crazy man ran up to my wife and bit me, I was taking her to hospital, she needs help."

"Sir, stay here whilst I check out your vehicle."

John walked towards the SUV, gun drawn. He opened the back seats, but found a woman sleeping under a blanket. It looked like she was in a cold sweat, but she was probably high on drugs or something, and the man sounded crazy, so John guessed he had been drinking. He decided to end his search and walked back towards the man, leaving the back door of the SUV open.

"Sir, I'm going to have to arrest you and your passenger for DUI and possible drugs use. You will undergo tests at the station, and if found guilty you will be charged. Put your hands behind your back please."

After much begging and pleading, and eventually a struggle, John got the man cuffed. He led him to the back of his cruiser and placed him in the cage. As he shut the door, the man screamed and banged at the glass. The man looked scared, and had suddenly turned pale. John heard a moan behind him, and turned to see the mans passenger. She looked completely out of it to John, and he knew arresting her was going to be easy.

"Miss, you and your hus- Before he could finish she lunged and sank her teeth into his neck. He made a few gargling noises, before his body fell limp. The radio cracked to life. Screams and cries of mercy could be heard as the dispatcher was begging for her life from an unknown attacker. What followed was an ear piercing scream, and chewing sounds that filled the air waves. The man in the back of the cruiser watched the officer now rise as one of the dead, and they both proceeded to bang on the glass, desperate to get the trapped meal on the inside.

It would be the first of many.


	2. Vicky Ryans

One after another- Chapter 2

Vicky Ryans was a 23 year old EMT, in Chicago. She was short for her age, most women towering over her. Her partner, Chris Turner, was a 30 year old man. He had a muscular and lean build. He was quite tall for his age, and made Vicky look even smaller. She climbed into the cab of the ambulance, her partner climbing into the passenger seat.

"I sure hope today is going to be quite, want to actually finish on time today." She moaned to her partner.

"You're with me, what's your problem woman?" Chris said sarcastically.

Vicky switched on the engine, and started to a nearby fire station to be put on standby. She turned the corner, and her radio crackled to life.

"Could 46 proceed to West Boulevard, we have an injured assault victim. Police are already on route."

"Copy that, 46 on route." Vicky replied back.

"Looks like we're going to be busy today." She said to her partner.

"Haha, yeah, just when I was hungry too!"

Vicky laughed at his response, then turned on the lights and sirens and headed to their destination. They raced past a coffee shop with a police cruiser outside, Vicky wondering if she should ask the officer to follow. She decided against it and kept going, her eyes constantly scanning the road, and the traffic that split to the sides of the roads to let her past. A speeding car came hurtling through the intersection in front of her. She felt nervous, she knew somebody would get hurt because of that. The sun peaked above the tall skyscrapers, engulfing everything in it's path. The breeze rushed through the open windows, blowing Vicky's ponytail around the cab behind her. Her partner readied the medical kit, double checking for the disinfectant and bandages. He put his rubber gloves on, grabbed his bag and waited anxiously for them to reach the scene.

The ambulance turned the corner, it's sirens still wailing. Two police cruisers were parked at the side of the road, their sirens flashing. A woman, surrounded by four officers, was sitting on the curb of the sidewalk, curled into a ball. Chris jumped out of the cab, followed by Vicky.

He raced towards the woman, Vicky heading towards the officers to find out what had happened.

"Officers, what happened?" Vicky asked a rather tall looking officer.

"This woman claims she was attacked by a drunken man. She said at first she thought he was going to mug her, so she threw her purse at him, but apparently he kept on going towards her. She then said she realised that there was something wrong with the man, and as she walked towards him, he lunged at her, and as she raised her arm to protect herself, he bit her."

"Do you know where the man went?" Vicky asked the officer.

"Yeah, she said a passer by came and kicked the man off of her. Then she said that the helper looked at the drunken man, and his face went pale. He ran off down the road, and the drunken man stumbled off in the same direction." The officer said, pointing down the road.

On the sidewalk, Chris had patched the woman's wound up, but she would still need to go to hospital to have it examined for any infection.

Chris accompanied the woman to the back of the ambulance, and climbed inside with her. The doors shut, and Vicky guessed he would be filling out the paper work and keeping an eye on the woman.

"Well, thanks for the information officers. One of you can follow us to the hospital if you would like, take a statement when the doc has finished with her."

The officer nodded his approval, and got into his cruiser with his partner. Vicky walked to the back of the ambulance, and opened the doors. The woman was laid on the bed, Chris sat over her keeping an eye on her.

"Whats her condition?" Vicky asked.

"She's okay, bit of a fever though, but other than that she is okay. She is resting now though, she was saying that she was tired so I told her to lay down."

"Okay, well we will be at the hospital in about 30 minutes, depending on the traffic." \

Vicky closed the back doors as she climbed out.

The woman's eyes shot open, and before Chris could react, she jumped up and sank her teeth into his neck. He didn't even have time to scream.

Vicky climbed back into the cab, and headed back to the hospital. She heard thumps in the back, but she thought it was the equipment banging against the wall, her being new to the job. She pulled the ambulance into A&E, and walked to the rear of the ambulance to collect the patient. The police cruiser that had been following had been called to another incident, so they were absent. They would have to return later. Vicky opened the back doors, and was met with a horrifying site. Blood was spread all over the equipment and the back of the ambulance. Chris and the patient stared at Vicky, both with blank looks in their eyes. Chris had a gaping hole in his neck where the woman had ripped the flesh. Her mouth was covered in blood, the front of her dress soaked in blood. Chris' EMT overalls were hardly recognisable under all the blood. Vicky screamed, and backed away as they both advanced towards her. She ran into the hospital, hoping to get any help she could. As she entered through the doors, she was met with a bloodbath, and blank, expressionless looks all aimed her way. She turned to run back the way she came, but was met with Chris and the woman. She never had time to scream before she was devoured by the dead in the hospital. Vicky later rose as part of the dead, and exited the hospital in search of new food.


	3. Jane Edwards

Chapter 3

Jane Edwards

Jane awoke, early as usual for work. She crawled out of bed, and sauntered downstairs and turned on the television.

"Riots continue to cause chaos in the United States of America. Authorities are baffled for solutions to end the ongoing crisis. The National Guard has set up evacuation centres for those in affected areas."

Jane went into the kitchen, and prepared her lunch. In the garden, the bush rustled, and the tearing of flesh and cracking of bones could have been heard by anyone nearby. Jane was oblivious to this as she went about her daily routine. Jane got dressed into her usual work attire, grabbed the keys for her Honda Civic, and set off to work.

The street was quieter than usual, and many cars were left in driveways. In the neighbour's house, the car engine was running, but Jane couldn't see anyone in sight. She shrugged it off and started up her car. She flicked through the radio channels, many news reports containing information about the riots.

"Reports suggest that rioting has spread to many foreign countries, including the UK. Confirmed reports are as followed. The countries affected are:

The USA, Canada, UK, France, Germany, Spain, Portugal, Mexico, Russia, China and Ireland. We earlier spoke to the Chief Superintendent of South Yorkshire police. This is the interview.

"So, Chief Superintendent John Wilks, could we expect any riots in our city soon?"

"It's difficult to say at the minute. We are working closely with other police forces around the country, and are constantly getting updates on their situations."

"And what precautions have the police taken? Have you learnt from the August riots, or will this be another rampage across our cities again?"

"I can tell you know, police are being issued with improved riot gear, reserves of tear gas, and the military is on standby. This will not be a repeat of August, I expect many forces across the country to quickly recover control of the situation, and then maybe then we can focus on helping the other countries affected by these riots."

"Well that's all we have time for, thank you and please remain cautious."

Music continued to play on the radio. Two police cars with sirens speed past Jane, followed by and ambulance. A small accident was cordoned off at the junction ahead, and while she was waiting for the lights to change, she looked at the scene. A mangled wreck of a lorry, two cars and a bus blocked off the whole road to her left. Police and firefighters were digging through the wreck, trying to find anyone that may have survived the crash. Blood was spread inside the cab of the lorry, and the doors on all vehicles were wide open, blood smears leading into the dense woods beside the road, others into the city centre. A firefighter was vomiting at the side at the road, another one weeping beside him. A horn knocked Jane out of her trance, and she proceeded on her journey to work.

She arrived at the school, and was shocked to see the car park almost empty. There was only one school bus at the gates, and the playground was void of activity. She parked her car, grabbed her bag and walked to the reception. The reception was eerily empty, abyss of darkness behind the pine booth. Jane rang the bell, but nobody came to the desk.

"Hello? Jennifer you there? Helloooo?"

Confused, Jane signed her name on the roster and went to her classroom. What she failed to notice however, was the pool of blood in the booth, and Jennifer's signature on the roster.

A bang caught her attention, and the janitors closet door was slightly ajar, the light casting menacing shadows on the wall behind. Jane hurried to her classroom, noting that most of the classrooms were empty. She saw a teacher sleeping at his desk, probably waiting for the students to arrive to their lessons.

As she walked past the window, the teachers head rose from his desk, his milky white eyes staring at the vacant window. He stumbled to his feet, and staggered to the door, and started to pound on the glass.

Jane heard the pounding, and walked back to the window. She screamed at the sight of the teacher, and backed off to the far wall when the glass started to crack. She ran off to her classroom, and locked the door. She piled some tables up against it, and dialled 999.

"Emergency services operator, what service do you require?"

"Police, quick!"

"Okay, putting you through now."

"Police, how can I help you?"

"You've got to send someone quick, it's another teacher. I heard some banging on the glass, so I went to check and then this, this, this monster was staring at me! Then he st- started to bang on the glass, then it started cracking an- and I think he's going to try and kill me!"

"Calm down miss, you need to tell me where you are so I can send out some units okay. I'll also send out an ambulance for the man, he could just be injured."

"I'm at Grangeworth school, room G-06. I've locked myself in the supply cupboard, and I think I'm safe for now."

"Ok miss, some officers and paramedics are on their way now, don't come out until they shout for you, okay?"

"Yes, I can do that, thank you so much!"

"That bastard bit me! I should be going to hospital, not to a bloody school!"

"We'll just do this call then you can go to the hospital. Unless we have to arrest someone, then your screwed."

"Very funny, lets just get this over with."

Jane could hear the sirens as they neared her, then the blue lights lighting up her classroom. She could hear rapid footsteps heading in her direction, then they all stopped, and the screaming started. The agonising screams of pain filled the air, followed by the tearing sound of flesh, and the chewing of the fresh meals. A single pair of footsteps ran off down the corridor, then a loud thud as the person fell to the floor. 10 minutes later, the groans of the newly awakened dead sent chills down Jane's spine, striking fear into her. She could hear the scraping off feet across the floor, as they neared the classroom door. Jane searched the supply closet for a weapon of sorts, and set eyes on a craft knife. She opened the door, and crawled into her classroom on her hands and knees. She went to the window and stood up to peer outside. 4 police cars, a police van and an ambulance stood motionless below, their flashing lights reminding her that she should have been saved by now. She walked to the window, and peered through the blind. She gagged at what she saw. At the corner of the corridor, lay the remains of bodies in tattered police uniforms. Paramedics were feeding on one of the bodies, and some of the bodies were standing up. Suddenly, a figure wearing a police uniform threw itself at the window. In perfect sync, all the others turned towards the window, and started their slow approach to the slaughter that would become Jane. She screamed, which attracted more of the undead. Jennifer walked around the corner, and relief flooded Jane.

"Jennifer!" Jane shouted. What Jane saw when Jennifer stepped into the light, Jane couldn't stop the vomit coming. Half of her face had been torn off, blood stained her outfit, and her mouth was filled with fresh flesh. The faulty light blinked on and off as she neared her next meal. The floor was covered in a pool of blood, the walls stained with smeared handprints a reminder of the horrors that had occurred there. The creatures continued to pound on the door, and eventually the glass started to crack. The cracks spread across the window pane, each one signifying that the end was getting near for Jane. The cracks spread, almost looking like the pulsing veins in her arm. Jane trembled for an eternity before the glass eventually gave way. The wooden door started to creak under the pressure, the wood giving way as the weight thrashed itself against it. The door shattered, and the undead shambled their way through the wreckage, towards their prey.

Jane screamed and ran into the supply closet. She desperately tried to close the door, but the dead were there before she had the opportunity, and slammed themselves into the door, forcing Jane to fall onto the floor.

Jane screamed as the first one came through the door. She stabbed the craft knife into it's eyes, and what was once a policeman, fell to the floor, never to consume another human being again. Her victory was short lived, as the rest of the rescue team fought for their meal.

Jane's rescue team did get her, just like they said they would.

A few minutes later, Jane's body sat upright and sniffed the air, and as her nose caught the scent of a new prey, she, along with her new friends, set out for their next meal.

A/N - Finally another chapter is up! My laziness got the better of me, and I suddenly became aware of a started chapter that I never finished, so here is the finished version! Tell me what you think guys, its always appreciated!


	4. Bill Hunter  Part one

One after another

Chapter 4

Specialist Bill Hunter

U.S Army National Guard

1st Battalion, Bravo 3-3

The two UH-60 Blackhawk's roared over Los Angeles, skimming over the path of destruction below. Wrecks lined the intersections, small figures shambling among the wrecks. Hunter couldn't believe what he was seeing. Some people were helping the people, only to be dragged to the ground by those they were assisting. They would take bites out of any exposed flesh they could find, dooming the victim. Hunter was part of an evacuation squad, though it looked like it might be a little late for that now. He checked his M4 Carbine, flicked it to single-shot, and lined up his sights. He loaded bullets into the magazines stuffed into his ammo vest. He checked his sidearm for the second time, making sure nothing was amiss. His hands started shaking, the nerves getting the better of him. Every man knew what they were facing, civilisation was collapsing all around them, and it was unlikely that the human race would be recovering soon. They were just slowing down the tide, not stopping it.

"Alright, listen up!" The Staff Sergeant shouted, drowned out by the rotor blades above, "We will be touching down in five minutes! Our LZ will be downtown LA, so the area will be hot. We engage anything that doesn't respond to verbal commands, we cannot take risks these things. You get bitten by one of them," The sergeant scratched his head, and removed his helmet, and sighed, "You get bit by them, then you will be given a choice. You can either shoot yourself before you turn, or someone else can shoot you before or after you turn into one of those things out there. We will be working closely with emergency services, providing security whilst they evacuate civilians." This brought groans from some of the troops in the helicopter. Emergency service personnel tended to get in the way, and didn't understand the complexity of the situation that they were all in.

The sergeant brought out a map of the downtown area.

"The helo will drop us here, while Bravo 2 will provide security from the air. We will form a perimeter around our original LZ so bravo 2 can land. It's a short walk for 3 blocks, where we should come to an apartment complex. Police are using it as a relief centre, and HQ is set up there. Bravo 2 will set up there but we will continue onto 12th and 14th where the police barricade is. We process any civilians, and send the cleared ones to the relief centre, where the Army convoys will evacuate them to Los Angeles Air Force base. I'll give you a full brief at the checkpoint!"

Bravo 3 descended into the smoke filled city, Bravo 2 following closely behind. The buildings shook as they flew past them, their tall structures void of any activity. Los Angeles was dead, except the same couldn't be said for it's unfortunate inhabitants. Most were up and about, but not the same as they once were. They preyed on those lucky enough to survive, those that desperately fought for their lives. The world was on the brink of collapse, and these people were witnesses to the horror that would engulf the country in a matter of days. Chicago was silent, New York facing difficulties of it's own. England was under siege, and everyone was fighting a losing battle. When the dead killed, they had another member among their ranks, the living one less able bodied person was torn away from them. When the living put the dead to rest, it was just one less person trying to kill them. Their chances of success didn't improve, instead only diminished as fatigue started to set in. The course was set, but they sure as hell weren't going down without blowing a massive hit to their numbers.

The Blackhawk hovered above the intersection. Below them, hundreds of bodies littered the street, most of them looking up at the fresh meal.

"I'm gonna need some of your men to spin up the miniguns, there's no way we are landing in that!" the pilot shouted to the sergeant.

"Alright, Hunter, Johnson, you heard the man! Clear the LZ so we can land. Bravo 2-1 this is bravo 3-1, do you read over?"

"Bravo 2-1 here, loud and clear, over!"

"We're gonna spin up the guns and clear the LZ! Our team will land and secure a perimeter. You are to provide security as we disembark, then you can land once the perimeter is secure. I'll brief you when you get on the ground!"

"Copy that sir, providing security."

Hunter placed himself behind the minigun, and aimed below at the figures. He could hear Johnson letting rip with his gun, so Hunter did the same. The bullets tore the limbs off the dead below. They were obliterated by the power of the guns, and in less than a minute, all that was left were a pile of dismembered bodies strewn about. They landed, and the men piled out of the helicopter. Bravo 2 spun up her guns, as a group of undead charged towards there meal. They were reduced to nothing. Hunter aimed at a figure rounding the corner and fired a shot towards it's head. The figure slumped to the ground, a danger to no one. Gunfire erupted from all sides as more infected piled out from the surrounding skyscrapers. Hunter fired four shots in quick succession, claiming two more kills to his name. Once all the men were on the ground, Bravo 2 touched down, and the men joined Bravo 3 on the ground.

"Bravo 2-1, Angel 5 here. We are at bingo fuel and need to RTB. We will be available for extraction around 1700 hours. Stay safe and good luck, over."

"Copy that Angel, have a safe flight, Bravo 2-1 out."

More gunshots erupted from the distance, and the men arched their backs upright. Hunter was a veteran to war, having served in Afghanistan with the Rangers, and a previous tour in Iraq. He joined the National Guard in 2011 after losing most of his squad in an ambush set up by enemy troops. The memories of that day haunt his dreams, and after several months of therapy, he decided to join the National Guard. He still wanted to serve his country, but he couldn't go back to that place, not where so many of his friends were lost. The men that now surrounded him were just recruits, fresh out of training. They were eager, and eagerness causes recklessness. It was a viscous cycle, and it often turned out for the worst. Most new recruits didn't survive their first day in combat, and in these times, every man and woman was needed to fight the infected.

"Got two moving coming in from the left!"

"Got three moving in from the building on the right!"

"Their getting pretty close over here, we need to move or we're all gonna die!"

The Guardsmen were starting to panic, and that was the last thing that they needed right now.

"Pull yourself together men! Nobody dies while I'm around, you got that? Now engage the hostiles, single shots to the head should put 'em down for good. Stay calm and take a long breath in, then pull your triggers. When you breath out, they shouldn't be a threat to us anymore."

And sure enough, the men did as the sarge asked them too, and just as he said to do, they did it to perfection. 11 more of their ranks were no more, and a temporary boost to our morale.

Hunter ejected the magazine. He'd only fired 5 shots, so he placed the magazine back into the weapon. He walked over to the sarge, and stood by him for a few moments before he finally decided to speak.

"Sir, permission to speak?"

"Quit with the formalities specialist, what do you want?"

"With all due respect sir, I don't think we can accomplish this mission with the men that you have at your command. Out of both our squads, only five of us have seen previous combat, the rest are green sir!"

The sarge turned towards me, a rough frown edging onto his face.

"Son, I don't need attitude like that in my squad. I've gone through too much to let these fucks put an end to my life. When faced with death, humanity will surprise you. Our determination to survive takes over and the rest is history, so I'm confident that they can survive this."

Bill stood there baffled. He was expecting more from the sarge. He had a point though, and for the first time today, he thought he might just make it. The men mobilized yet again towards their objective. Their rifles scanned the various shells of the previous world stalking the horizon. A screeching caught their attention, and each man ran for cover amongst the various wrecks that covered the street. 12 weapons aimed at the intersection ahead, where a small wreck had occurred. A car had hit the side of a bus, causing the tanker behind to swerve into oncoming traffic, which was a recipe for disaster. The aftermath was devastating. The tanker had exploded as it rolled on it's side, the storage tank had been torn and the sparks ignited the fuel inside. It was like a small bomb, decimating anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the blast radius.

Bill hoped that they died painless deaths, although nobody deserved to die. He was shaken from his thoughts when a car hurtled around the corner. The sarge jumped to his feet, frantically waving his arms and shouting for the car to stop. Hunter aimed at the drivers head, ready to react at a moments notice. Luckily for him, the car slowed down, and the sarge walked to the window. The scared driver looked towards the sarge, a Glock 17 slowly making it's way to window level, aimed directly at the sarge.

"Drop the fucking gun!"

"Drop the gun now!"

"Sarge get back!"

Shouts of panic erupted from the rookies, and one Guardsman fired a shot from his weapon, the bullet impacting the driver side door and going into the drivers leg. The leg pressed down on the pedal as the bullet tore into the muscle and impacted several nerves, sending the car into the wall and killing the driver. The man who shot screamed and dropped to the floor, crying into his hands. Everyone stared with disbelief at what they had seen. An innocent civilian killed by the very people that were supposed to protect them.

Some men looked on at the man, anger plastered all over their faces. Others stared on with blank expressions, not being able to come to terms with what had happened, while some returned to watching the street.

"Sir, I- I'm sorry! I thought he was going to kill you!"

The man cried again, brushing his hands over his head as he realised what he had just done. The sarge sighed, and placed a comforting soldier on his shoulder.

"We all make mistakes son, yours was just a really bad one. I will have to deal with you when we get to the HQ, but for now I need you to pick up that weapon and go save some lives."

The soldier nodded, and was helped back to his feet by two Guardsmen.

The sarge ordered them to move out, and they proceeded down the street in a scattered formation. The gravel crunched under Hunter's boot, occasionally a squelching sound could be heard but Hunter dared not to find out what it was and kept walking on. They encountered more civilians in a desperate rush to find shelter and told them to return to their homes and they would return for them. The civilians looked disappointed and distraught at the response, and sauntered back down the way they came.

Another intersection was up ahead, this one manned by emergency service personnel. Police barricades were manned by SWAT and military troops, the police officers tasked with the tedious job of tending to the refugees. Every street leading to the intersection was blocked off by police cruisers, their lights flashing onto the desolate street. Behind the cruisers numerous Humvees were positioned, their .50 cal machine guns aimed towards the various streets, ready to tear into the threat at a moments notice.

A spotlight shone on the squad from a makeshift watch tower. Weapons clicked as magazines were loaded, and suddenly the squad had a wide range of weapons aimed directly at them.

"Don't shoot, U.S National Guard!" the sarge shouted towards nothing, hoping to get some sort of response.

"Stop where you are and don't move any closer!" A soldier ordered them all, and the squad lowered their weapons and stopped walking. A figure walked out through the blinding light, looking like some sort of angel to the squad. His outline stepped out into the light, and approached the sergeant.

"About goddamn time your sorry ass decided to show up, Mitch." The man laughed, and embraced the sergeant.

"Sorry Max, kinda got held up back there. So what's the situation?" The sarge replied to the man, who Bill guessed was Max. The two men began mumbling to each other, trying to make sure that none of the men could see or hear what they were saying to one another.

They parted ways, and the man turned to the sarge.

"I'll brief you more in the tent," he turned towards the barricade and motioned for someone to come towards him, "Rodriguez, take these men to the barracks and get them set up with some food. Take 'em to the ammo crates and let them fill up any empty magazines they have. Re-supply them with whatever they need; they got a hell of a night ahead of them." The soldier saluted the man, and shouted for them all to follow him. They followed him to a tent, where they were directed towards various bunks situated around the tent. Bill dropped his backpack and helmet onto the mattress and sat down, recollecting all the events from that day. The briefing they had back at base, the live subject brought in to show them all just what they were dealing with, the first contact on the ground and then the innocent civilian shot and killed as a result of the resulting crash. Today was a bad day, and Hunter feared it would soon get worse.

The men were briefed further on what they were to be doing. Setting up an observation post a few blocks away, where there were reported sightings of large groups of survivors holed up in the buildings. The threat level was unknown, so they were basically going in blind, possibly to their deaths. They were supplied with three transport trucks. One was for them to travel in, another one filled with sandbags and the third with enough food and ammunition to feed a small army. Guess the boys up top expected them to encounter some trouble, which deeply troubled Hunter. If they knew more than they were letting on, then they were in for a very big surprise, but orders were orders and they had to obey them, no matter what.

He placed his helmet back on, and picked up his pack and weapon. Checking it was loaded and satisfied; Bill sprinted to the truck and climbed in the back, noticing that the man involved in the earlier shooting wasn't with them this time. The army mocked the men as they waited for the trucks to get rolling.

"Hey, don't worry guys, we'll come save your asses when they get handed to you!"

The soldier got a two fingered salute from the Guardsmen as a response. Two police officers parted their cruisers, allowing the trucks and it's escorts to get moving. The Humvees escorted them for two blocks, before returning to the HQ. They were on their own now, heavily outnumbered if intel was correct. A suicide mission. Most wouldn't be returning to their families tonight, although he doubted that many families were alive. Shit was bad now, the world had gone from bad to worse, but it was his duty to his country to make a stand, and at least slow the enemy down. Hunter just hoped he didn't join them.

"Hi my name's L-" One of the Guardsmen began to speak to Bill, but he cut him off before he had the chance.

"Don't tell me, I don't want to know your name." Hunter replied coldly. It wasn't that he didn't like the man, he just learnt that it was easier to forget a man if you didn't know their names. He had learnt that the hard way in Afghanistan.

His patrol was ambushed by insurgents. Grenades were thrown into the patrol, and only three men survived the initial attack. Many were Hunter's friends, and that day would haunt him for the rest of his life. Soon after, he was stripped of rank following a trial and found guilty of failing to follow orders and desertion, subsequently leading to him getting almost all of the squad killed. This was not the case however. The captain had ordered the men to charge at a group of insurgents, hoping to disperse them so they could be picked off one by one. The men charged, and they had sprung the trap, and sealed their fate. The captain hid behind a wall, while his squad was slaughtered in front of him. Hunter was hit in the leg , his weapon a few metres ahead of him. He had limped to the captain and hit him in the face, drawing blood from his nose and mouth. He limped back the way the patrol had come, and went back to base explaining what had happened. The other three men never made it back to base, only the captain. Without any witnesses, it was a sergeants word against a captains. He was court-marshalled and faced trial, and the jury voted in the captains favour. He had to pull some strings to get accepted into the National Guard up top, friends in high places and all that jazz, in the hope that some day he may be able to return to the army.

Hunter was brought back to reality as the truck squealed to a stop, and the hatches at the back opened. The men jumped out and looked at their surroundings, realising that they were in the financial district of the city, the large bank building looming over them.

"Hunter, Alex and Martinez, I want that buildings ground, 1st and 2nd floors secured. Electricity should still be working, and most of these buildings should have some sort of internal communications, so attempt to reach contact with the rest of the floors. If you can't establish some sort of contact, then block the stairwells and place claymores on the 2nd floor stairwell."

"Connors, Smith and Walker, you three go get a bus, block off the north street. Once you have done that, climb onto the top and use the sandbags to set up a defensive position. Take the SAW and mount it on the sandbags. Should give you a clear view of the street and you can rip the fucker's limbs off!"

"The rest of you, set up a wall of sandbags surrounding the trucks. Set up an OP in the café across the street. Shoot anything that walks or sprints funny. Your not idiots so I think you can distinguish between living and dead. Let's move it!"

Everyman had a job to do; no one had an excuse to be doing nothing. Bravo 2 pulled security whilst Bravo 3 searched the surrounding buildings. Simple but effective.

The building almost creaked as the three man team approached it. Hunter held his hand up and closed it into a fist as they approached the glass doors. Blood was smeared on the front of the doors, and a taxi was smashed into the receptionist's desk, a pair of legs with way too large heels sticking out from under the body. Hunter shivered at the thought of what laid under the cab and instead motioned for the others to follow him into the lobby. The lobby was a grand space. Large marble tiles covered the floor, now their clean finish replaced by the dried stains of blood that seemed to flood the lobby. Bodies were all over the floor, most wearing expensive business suits. Opened briefcases sat next to their long dead owners, various files and folders spilling out of them. Up ahead, an elevator door was opening and closing, unable to fully shut because of the security guards body stuck in between. His head made a squelching sound each time the doors attempted to close. Bill wondered what had happened to those on the floors above waiting for the elevator. Where they still waiting now or did they succumb to the same fate that it seemed had destroyed the lobby.

A phone was hanging on its cord, a faint noise could be heard, and as

Hunter placed it to his ear, he could hear a chewing sound on the other end of the line. He curled over and emptied what little food he had in his stomach, much to the alarm of the other two Guardsmen. They rushed over to ask if he was okay, but he had recovered by the time they got to him. He told them he was fine and sent them to the two stairwells leading to the upper floors. He picked up the phone, hung up on the previous number and opened up the phonebook in front of him. He searched for the bank, and after frantically ripping the pages out in frustration, he finally found the name of the bank. He rang the management number, hoping for someone to answer, but to no avail. The phone on the receptionist desk was destroyed beyond repair, so they had no choice but to go up to the first floor, much to everyone's anger. Hunter called Martinez over to the stairwell Alex was at, and they proceeded upwards. Various tools and furniture stood at the top of the stairs, some formed to act as a part of a makeshift barricade. The barricade hadn't been finished, as most of the furniture was still at the top of the stairs. It looked they had been disturbed by something, or they had to run away from something. Hunter guessed the second option, as they came across a corpse of a cop with his head caved in. His gun was still in the holster, so the killer didn't have time to pick it up. They walked on, weapons aimed at the doorway ahead of them. There was no doorway left. The doors had been ripped off the hinges, and a barricade behind them was in pieces. Hunter had seen enough.

"Place the claymores here, there's going to be nothing but trouble in here. Alex, run back down to the other stairwell and place claymores there too. When you're done, block the bottom doors with whatever furniture you can find. The claymores should alert us to any contact and hopefully the barricades will give us enough time to prepare out defences. I'll be in the lobby."

"Yes sir." Both men said in hushed voices.

With the café now secure, the men set up a base inside. The remaining SAW was set up on the roof. The trucks formed a makeshift blockade around the main entrance, and a sandbagged wall blocked off the rear alleyways. The situation was the same with the remaining buildings, the men satisfied that nothing had survived the carnage that had occurred. The routine was the same, claymores and barricades stacked up on each of the stairwells. Some of the support beams were even rigged with C4, should they see a large group they would collapse the buildings around them to slow or stop them. The buildings would collapse into each other, making a devastating scene of destruction. The men would be safe, but doomed. They couldn't drive out, and all aircraft were engaged in other rescue efforts. The National Guard was deemed expendable in circumstances like this.

Hunter and his team walked to the café and took a seat inside.

"Sir, all buildings rigged to blow; we managed to get enough buses to block off both sides of the street. The doors face inwards so we set up defensive positions in and on top of them. We found no survivors in any of the buildings, just bodies. Command wants us to remain here, to see what sort of numbers they are dealing with. We get relieved in 5 days; the army's motorised division is coming in to take over from us."

"Nice work, serve the men up some food, then I want half the men to turn in for the night. Bravo 2 will be on watch for the night, Bravo 3 will take over in the morning."

"Yes sir!"

Hunter laid down in a booth with Alex and Martinez. These were his guys now, and it was time for him to prove that he could lead again. Gunshots sounded from all around the city, sirens blaring all around as the night set in. It was difficult to sleep, and at around 2am, Bravo 2 engaged their first contact of the night.

A/N- So I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and it ended up getting a bit long (longer than all the other chapters together to be exact) so I had to stop myself from writing too much. I intend to write more for this chapter, so this is like half a chapter really. Do you prefer longer chapters that possibly have to be put into more chapters, or do you want them short and sweet. Any replies will be greatly appreciated.

Thank you,

Confused I am.

P.S oh and REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! Please guys, I like to know if anyone is actually reading this, whatever it is.

P.S.S I also apologise if anybody here lives in LA. I live in England so I know almost nothing about LA. I'm merely basing this on the generalised structure of a city, so if there's any confusion then I do apologise.

P.S.S.S Review!


	5. Bill Hunter Part two

Chapter 4 Part two

Bill Hunter

U.S Army National Guard

1st Battalion Callsign Bravo 3-3

The sniper scanned the street ahead of him, looking for any sign of movement. The moonlight glinted off his scope. The cool breeze whisked over the Guardsman's head, sending a shiver down his spine. A movement caught his eye, and he aimed towards the shadows. A figure came shambling out towards the bus he was on. The figure was still a distance away, roughly 500 metres from the barricade. Certain that the figure wasn't a living person, the sniper fired off a shot towards it's head. All that was heard as the bullet left the suppressor was the slicing of the air as the bullet hurtled towards its mark. The head shattered into a fine mist, the 7.62 round splattering the remains of the skull on the wall behind it. The sniper pressed a button on his headset and spoke into the mic.

"One contact, southern road. Distance approximately 500 metres from my location. Target is down, I repeat, target is eliminated." The sniper pulled back the bolt on the rifle, filling the chamber with another bullet.

"Copy that, keep us updated, over." A voice sounded on the radio.

The sniper scratched a line into the roof of the bus to mark his kill. Numerous contacts were reported that night, and when Bravo 3 took over security, the roof of the bus was covered in scratches.

"What the fuck is this all about?" Alex asked Hunter.

"The snipers kill tally, and it sure looks like he had a busy night." Spent shell casings covered the road around the bus. The view down the street was awful. Dead bodies were piled up on a burning pyre, and there were several pyres still burning, the extinguished fires now just a pile of bones. The men were told to put their gas masks on, as most of the men had vomited at the smell of the bodies.

"I think we should go search down the street, see what we can find, could be some survivors, don't you think?" Alex asked Hunter.

"I don't know, seems kinda risky and we may not come back from it. Its quite a distance and I don't think your fat ass would keep up if we had to run back here."

Hunter chuckled and received a jab from Alex as a response. After speaking with his CO, it was decided that they could recon the next block, get an estimate of the number of enemy contacts around that area. Hunter took four men with him, Alex, Martinez, Wilson and Hobbs.

They walked past the front sentries, the Guardsmen wishing them good luck. They had a QRF on standby, should they get into a tricky spot and need a little assistance. The gear was basic. Hobbs carried an M249 SAW. Could lay down some serious firepower if needed; giving them a chance to fall back to a safe distance. The rest carried their M4's across their chest, pointing at the ground. They climbed over a few cars that had crashed in the centre of the road, their occupants long gone from the scene. Hunter wondered if the occupants were in the burning pyre back at the OP.

Hunter spoke softly into the mic.

"Got contacts, over a dozen. Don't engage, lets try and sneak around them."

The men all replied with a yes sir and crouched down amongst the vehicles. The group of figures were huddled over something, their heads buried into whatever was on the ground. After close inspection it was revealed to be the body of a postman, though the uniform was hardly recognisable. The uniform was torn where the dead had chewed into the stomach. Intestines were strewn beside his body, and arm in the mouth of the large woman. She kept gnawing on the arm and the bone could now be seen. She kept chewing, trying to get through the bone but to no avail. Hunter gagged and only just avoided throwing up his lunch. He took a swig of water from his canteen and continued to crawl behind the cars near the sidewalk.

Wilson knocked over a trash can, and all the dead turned towards the sound. They shrieked at their new found meals, and shambled towards the team. Hunter gave the order to fire at will, and they all opened up on them.

The first person was dropped by Hunter, a 5.56mm bullet lodged in it's skull. It tumbled to the floor, a gaping hole in its' head. The second was dropped by Wilson. He fired off a three round burst towards the creature. The first two impacted centre mass, doing nothing but slowing it down but the third bullet hit its mark. The creature went down.

Hunter, realising that they were getting too close for comfort, switched to full-auto and emptied his clip into the group. Only four went down permanently, some tripped over the others and writhed about on the ground. Another had their spine shattered and was unable to walk and lay motionless on the ground. Its jaw continued to snap at the men, but Hunter put a bullet into it's skull to end its misery. The group was getting larger, and much closer to the men. Hunter told Hobbs to let rip on them with the SAW to thin the crowd that was now forming. Limbs and body parts flew off their bodies as the bullets were sent into the group. Wilson, too busy focusing on the crowd was separated from the squad and had no choice but to back into an alleyway behind him. He backed straight into another group of dead. His screams pierced the air as he was devoured. He wanted to go out with a bang, so he pulled the pins off his frag grenades. A terrific explosion followed seconds later, and a cloud of dust shot out from the alleyway.

Hunter heard the explosion and turned towards the sound. Wilson was nowhere to be seen, and he feared the worst. Unable to reach the alleyway, he had no choice but to order the men to fall back, fearing that Wilson was dead. He said a silent prayer for the man and then followed his squad back to the OP.

"Hobbs lay down some fire! Thin out the crowd a little then fall back to the OP. If you aren't back in 5 minutes I'm going to shoot you myself." Hunter ordered the man.

Immediately rapid firing could be heard from Hobbs' location and the rest of the man ran back to the buses. Alex and Martinez dropped to one knee and provided covering fire for Hobbs as he ran back to the men. The rest of the men at the base opened up on the large crowd that was now following Hobbs. Hunter spotted three figures sprinting and aimed towards them. They would've looked normal, except that they all had large wounds in their necks. Hunter fired into the sprinting group who were rapidly gaining on Hobbs. The gear was weighing him down and he could only barely run. Another group pounced out of an alleyway ahead of Hobbs and the man found himself surrounded.

"Fuck!" he screamed. He lifted the SAW and Bill told the men to fire at the crowd ahead of Hobbs. The crowd was thinned pretty quickly, but with the fire now directed towards the new crowd, the one behind was almost on top of Hobbs. Hobbs turned around too late and was tackled to the ground by one of the faster ones. He gurgled as the thing tore into his necks, blood gushing out of the open wound. The things face was now soaked in blood, and the rest joined in on the feast. Hunter fired a shot into the crowd. Hobbs wouldn't suffer anymore.

Panic erupted from behind as the radio crackled to life.

"This is the HQ; we are falling back to LAX. All OP's are instructed to hold out until evacuation choppers can get to your locations. Good luck and god speed to you all."

The men all stood dazed. The HQ was well defended and it was overrun? This wasn't good, especially for OP Bravo. They had four SAW, well three now because Hobbs had one with him. There defence was a wall of buses fortified with sandbags. 18 men left to hold off a city with a population of over 6 million and many more tourists. The odds were stacked against them heavily and most of the men had taken to writing farewell letters to friends and family.

The CO ordered the charges to be detonated. This was a sign that things were bad, and staring out to the various streets it soon became clear that things were a lot worse than bad. The street was packed with bodies shuffling and sprinting towards the men. Snipers picked off the sprinters, but now the wave of undead was getting too close for comfort. They had ran out of ammo for the SAW's and most of their frags had been thrown into the crowds. Hunter picked up his detonator and waited for the order that they all dreaded. This was a final resort, to only be used if they really were fucked and no other option was available. OP Alpha had gone silent; OP Charlie was experiencing a heavy concentration of the dead. The HQ continued to repeat it's earlier message on a loop.

The CO climbed out onto the roof of the café.

"Men and women, we have just lost contact with OP Charlie. OP Delta sent scouts to Alpha and Charlie and was met with carnage. Nobody survived at either OP. Extraction helos are on their way to Delta. Within the next day or two they will be evacuated, us shortly after them. We can do this, so I ask you to fight until your guns run dry. I want every bullet in the heads of those things out there. We have already lost two men today; I don't intend to lose anymore. Now grab your detonators and blow those charges!"

Controlled explosions soon followed. The explosions had to be timed to perfection or the buildings would fall the wrong way and onto the men. The first explosion went off and the building groaned under the strain but on the remaining support beams. A second explosion went off and the floors above collapsed. One by one the support beams fell, and the building fell to the side. Hunter pushed the detonator and his building collapsed into the other falling building. The men took cover under any vehicle that they could find as the rubble pelted the ground. The same happened on all the other streets, and after almost half an hour of hiding under the various vehicles, the area was declared safe. The explosions worked to perfection. All the roads into the OP were blocked off by the rubble, and they didn't believe that the dead could climb.

The entire area was covered in dust. Large pieces of concrete had crushed some vehicles but luckily no one was seriously injured. A few cuts and bruises and some broken bones was all that they had suffered, no casualties so far.

The men cheered at their victory, but it was soon to be short lived.

The top floors of the buildings remained mostly intact. When the buildings collapsed into each other, the dead inside the buildings were free to come out. Some ran and some shambled down the destroyed staircases. The men had trapped themselves and sealed their fates without even knowing it.

A lone Guardsman stood watch on the corner of the street. Lulling himself into a false sense of security, he thought he was safe. He placed his weapon down on the hood of the car and pulled out his phone to try and contact family. To his surprise he had no signal. The military had cut all civilian communications to avoid widespread panic. He climbed into the car and eventually drifted into sleep as his body got comfortable. Later that night he was dragged out of the car and a chunk was ripped from his neck. No one heard and when they eventually realised what was happening, it was too late. The undead charged out from the buildings, tackling the sentries and ripping into them. Hunter and the rest of Bravo 3 awoke to the sounds of screaming and gunfire. Hunter grabbed his weapon and sprinted out onto the street, only to be dragged back in by the sarge. Johnson ran out of the doors and was pounced on by the dead. They tore him apart as he screamed for mercy.

"Fuck! What the fuck are we going to do now?" Hunter shouted to the sarge.

"We get to the roof, there's nothing we can do for those poor souls out there."

The sarge and hunter, along with five other men climbed up the ladder to the roof. Gunfire outside had stopped now, and the dead were all pounding on the café doors.

"We're not getting out of this, are we sir?" Alex asked the sarge.

The sarge bowed his head, thinking what to say to comfort the men. Just yesterday it seemed like they would make it, that he would return to his wife and children. He couldn't lie to his men and decided to tell them the truth.

"It doesn't look like it son, but that's not to say we can just give up. This is the USA, and we are going to go down fighting to keep it that way!" We will take as many of these down as we can, then I have one remaining option for us. The sarge pulled out his sidearm and fired off four shots into the crowd. He walked to a vent and placed the handgun on top of the vent.

"That gun has seven bullets remaining. There are seven of us remaining. I think you already know why that gun is there. No matter what, I will be the last person to shoot myself, along with Hunter. When you are ready to go, you go and get the gun and bring it to me. I'll say a prayer for you and then I will fire the gun. You are not a coward for taking this way out, and you will be respected and your families will be told of your bravery. You will go down as heroes and will always be remembered in the hearts and minds of those you love and those you sacrificed yourself for. Make no mistake, we will not survive this, but I intend to go down a man and fight for the right to live rather than a coward."

The men all nodded in understanding and everyone said a quick prayer for those that they loved. As a man once said, anyone who doesn't find religion at some point in war is either nuts or insane. Hunter looked at the pistol wondering who would be the first to take the gun. Alex walked to the edge of the roof and emptied his clip into the crowd. The rest of the men did the same. They intended to use every last bullet they had. They had come to an unspoken agreement. They would all die together at the same time as one another. They would use up their ammunition and radio to base that OP Bravo was lost and to not send the evac choppers.

The men continued to fire into the crowd, at first they just fired aimlessly, but then saw their old comrades amongst the dead. They eased their pain and put bullets into their heads that stared hungrily at the men on the roof. More and more dead were gathering and the men had almost run out of ammunition. Clip after clip, bullet after bullet was unloaded into the heads of those unlucky enough to have gotten caught.

The soldiers had gone through all their ammo and had taken to firing their pistols at the crowd. Sometimes the pile of bodies had to be kicked away from the building as the dead tried to climb their fallen brothers. They had killed well over 500 and yet the tide was endless. They were still pouring out of the fallen buildings and the tide seemed endless. There were many more on the other side of the fallen buildings attracted to the shooting but unable to reach it.

The last bullet was fired, and then all was silent. They had used up everything that they could throw at the enemy and now all they could do was wait.

They all sat down on various ventilation shafts and told them stories about the good old days. Hunter told them about Afghanistan and what had happened to him. He found out off Alex that the captain was dead, a friendly fire incident apparently. The bastard got what he deserved in the end and Hunter would die a happy man. He would miss his family and children but would die a proud man, knowing he saved many more.

They came to a decision about how they wanted to die. The sarge was going to call an airstrike on their position. It would annihilate the dead in and outside the destroyed buildings and increase the chances of the Army reclaiming LA.

The sarge walked over to his gun and picked it up. The men had lined up next to each other, and had agreed that the sarge would shoot them in the head one by one. It was the most honourable death they could have at this time, better than being devoured by one of those things at least. They all laughed and cheered together, and said their goodbyes to each man. The men lined up in the order that they chose as not to cause any confrontation or make anyone feel that they weren't as important as the next person.

The sarge walked over to Alex and grabbed his hand. He held it firmly as he spoke comforting words to the man, telling him how it was an honour to serve with him and wished him all the best. He stood back, aimed the gun and fired. Alex dropped to the ground, a smile still on his face. He did the same for the rest of the men, and now the sarge and Hunter were the only two remaining. They radioed for the air strike on their location and hugged one another.

"Son, I know what happened in Afghanistan wasn't your fault. I've seen your courage today, you care about the men and wouldn't do anything to jeopardise their trust in you. Don't punish yourself about Wilson and Hobbs, there was nothing you could do about them. I wish you all the best and I'll see you on the other side." The sarge stood back and aimed. As he aimed Hunter noticed something behind the sarge. He ran towards him, snatching the gun and realising that an undead had climbed up onto the roof using the bodies for support. It sprinted towards the sarge but Hunter put a bullet in it's forehead. So they could climb after all. Hunter chuckled at the irony at what had just happened, then realised that they only had one bullet left in the gun.

"I'm sorry sir." Hunter aimed the gun at the sarge and pulled the trigger. "I'll see you on the other side."

Hunter crumpled to the ground, sobbing to himself. He didn't want the sarge to suffer a painful death and decided to not give him a chance to persuade Hunter that he should be the one to die peacefully.

"Bravo 2 this is Jester 1-3. Are you ready for the payload, over?"

Hunter raced to the radio.

"Jester 1-3 this is Bravo 3-3, deliver the payload, Bravo 3-3 out.

"Copy that Bravo 3-3, god bless you all."

The bomb bay doors on the B2 stealth bomber opened and the 500lb bomb hurtled towards Hunter's location. The bomb exploded on impact and Hunter felt a searing heat against his skin. The bomb vaporized anything within the blast radius, and all that remained of the men were their metal dog tags.

The men died as heroes and would always be remembers heroes.

A/N – Wasn't going to upload this chapter today but I couldn't leave you guys waiting forever for me to update again. Should give me enough time to type up some more chapters. Please tell me what you think of Hunter's death. Did he die with glory or was I just evil to him?

And thank you for your reviews, always helps.


	6. Scott Delanie

One after another

Chapter 5

Scott Delanie

Scott yawned as the night shift dragged on. He was working overtime, doing back to back shifts to save up for his own house. At 20, it wasn't unusual for most youngsters to still be living with their parents. He needed the space however, constantly being nagged to do something with his life, being pressured to find someone and start a family of his own. He knew his mother wanted him to be just like his older brother. She wanted him to join the police like his brother. That was the problem; he and his brother were two totally different people. His brother was talented and smart, he was the total opposite. Whilst his brother studied and revised for his exams, he went out with friends, got drunk and threw his life away before reality had chance to hit him. Now he was stuck in a dead end job, going nowhere in life, and full of regrets.

Scott sighed and looked at the clock. 2:40 Am. He still had another 8 hours of his shift to go. That's when he noticed the three figures walking towards the shop. He knew they were trouble the moment they stepped through the doors into his shop.

Wearing hoodies with their hoods up and wielding metal bars, they slowly stepped through the doors. The first one began checking the isles, looking for anybody else in the shop. The other two walked up to the counter, armed with their weapons.

"Get the money out of the till and put it in the bag. No funny business or you're a dead man. Do you have a car?" The older one said. The other member returned from checking the isles, and the man dismissed them both to grab some supplies off the shelves.

"I- I- I don't know, I mean yes I have a car." Scott nervously replied. This was his first robbery, and this wasn't something they prepared you for on your induction day.

"Well? Where the fuck is it? You think we're going to walk with all this stuff?" He waved a gun at Scott, and then laughed to himself.

"Erm it's parked around the back, behind the rear doors." Scott continued to put the money in the bag until the till was empty.

"Hand over the keys, and unlock the back door. Don't try anything mate or I'll put a bullet through your head. Dipshits! We're leaving so get everything we need and come to the car that this man has so generously offered to give us." This got a small chuckle from the other two who were now busy grabbing the baskets of goods that they had stole.

Scott walked from behind the counter, the gun following him through the process. He opened the staff only door, passed the lounge and towards the rear exit.

"Open it." The gunman ordered.

He fumbled in his pockets for the keys to the door, eventually finding them after discarding many empty chewing gum packets that had filled his pockets. The man with the gun ordered him to open the door, waving the gun towards the door to emphasise his point.

"You'll never get away with this you know. The police will catch you then you will get what you deserve."

"You really believe that? Have you seen the news lately? The USA is under martial law, England has deployed its own military against its own citizens! France has collapsed the Channel tunnel, isolating England from the rest of Europe. The Mexican cartel has seized the borders between them and the USA, the US border control being diverted to affected areas. Shits bad, and how long do you expect Australia to be safe for? I'm doing what everyone else should be doing, getting enough supplies to last for a few months and heading up to the mountains. If I was you, I would be doing the same. But you go ahead and believe that the police will come and save the day, just see where it gets you. Now open the door."

Scott sat their dumbstruck. He hadn't even bothered to watch the news recently, too busy catching up on his lost sleep to care about anything. He didn't want to believe this man, yet felt compelled to believe his every word. Doubt crossed his mind, but was quickly replaced with confidence in the man before him, the same man that just a few minutes ago had pointed a gun towards him and threatened to kill him. The man tapped his foot impatiently, an irritated look on his face.

"Come on, we don't have all day."

Scott placed the key in the lock and turned the key, a short click telling him that the door was unlocked. He opened it and stepped out into the cool night air. The breeze brushed past, sending shivers down his body. It howled angrily at the group as it whisked past them, drifting off into the night. Crickets chirped in the undergrowth of the outlaying fields, and the plants swayed in unison with one another, like waves crashing up against the beach. He pointed towards his car, the only car in the car park.

"Fuck man, how the hell did you afford a car like that?" One of the people asked him.

"Parents bought it for my 19th birthday." They all then stared at the Audi A4 in awe as it sat in the car park, looking slightly out of place amongst the other cars. They both forced him into the drivers seat, guns aimed at his head. They climbed in the back with the bags of money. Scott chuckled at the irony that both men were putting their seatbelts on, even though they were breaking a few laws now. Scott wondered if he was going to get out of this alive. The men would probably kill him when they got the first chance, or until at least he had took them to where they want to go. He didn't want to think of the other option. If the men were correct, then he would likely be eaten alive by these crazy rioters. One of the man tapped him on the shoulder, telling him to head to the local airport. They said to stop a few miles away, and they would let him out and take the car to the airport.

He started the car, and drove down the deserted road. He didn't pass a single car heading in his direction, and it put him off a little. A few cars littered the side of the road, doors hanging open and swaying in the breeze. He thought for a moment about the whereabouts of the owners, but then decided that he didn't want to know. He carried on driving down the long and winding motorway, still surprised at the lack of cars. An hour had passed until he finally saw the first set of taillights in the night. His mouth dropped in awe as he saw the lights stretch on for miles. The two robbers in the back shuffled uncomfortably as they looked onwards through the windows. The man whispered to his partner. Shortly afterwards, the man that had whispered pulled out the gun again, pointing it at his head.

"Okay, this is a problem. Pull to the side and we'll have to walk. One false move and you won't see tomorrow morning."

Scott nodded his approval and tried to reverse his car. A car coming up behind him obviously wasn't paying attention and slammed straight into the back of him. The car shook on impact, then settled down as it skidded into the car in front. Seeing a quick opportunity, Scott jumped out of his car, following the line of cars on the road.

The man jumped out of the backseat, closely followed by his partner. They went to the car behind and upon seeing the interior covered in blood, decided to leave it. As they fled the scene, the bushes to the right of the motorway rustled, and soon figured pounced on the meals waiting inside the cars. Scott heard the screams and continued to run. He heard gunshots as the men behind him fired on a small group enclosing around them. Staying still for too long, and the undead numbers rising as previous owners climbed out of cars, they were quickly trapped. The undead were on them in seconds, tearing them to pieces. Scott carried on running, the tapping of his feet drowning out their screams. He ran past a policeman, who was directing the fleeing crowd to carry on down the road. He pulled out his service weapon and fired into the crowd, taking down a couple of the infected. The rest just kept on moving towards him, the police officer having to step back after some unlucky civilians mistook the crowd for other survivors and mingled in amongst the crowd. The infected ravaged them, and Scott and the police officer ran whilst they were momentarily distracted by their meal. They followed the crowd of running people, until they heard further screams up ahead. Everything fell into chaos. Those at the front of the crowd turned to run away from what was ahead, and ended up crashing into those running behind them, falling over in a heap of bodies. When most of the crowd was on the floor, Scott could see what they were running from. A large crowd of infected were tearing through the ranks of the living, dragging them back into the crowd and eating them. The pops of firearms could be heard up ahead, but they were quickly cut short as the owners succumbed to the undead.

The policeman turned back and ran, but ran straight into the crowd behind them that had now caught up with them. He vanished into the crowd, only a single pop from his service weapon was heard. Scott had nowhere to go, he was completely surrounded, and most of the cars had terrified owners in them with locked doors. Some tried to run him over in their attempts to escape, but it was too late for them all. They reversed into other cars, into the central divide and into the crowds of the dead, where the wheels would get stuck on the bodies. The windows would get smashed; then undead hands would reach in a drag them out through the windows. Scott desperately searched for a way out of the situation that he was in. He grabbed a piece of glass off the road, his panicked state making him try anything, no matter how futile it actually was. He swiped at the first one, a deep gash forming on the cheek as the shard sliced through the flesh. The flesh hung loosely as the thing kept advancing on him, causing Scott to back up. The screams behind him had become quieter now, and there were fewer of them too, he noticed. This time, he stabbed the shard of glass into the stomach of the infected, hoping that the man would go down. He had realised his mistake all too late. These were undead, which meant that they would only go down if you incapacitated the brain. He cried out in agony as the man sank his teeth into his neck. He could see the blood coating the road, flowing down it like a river. There was a lot of blood gently flowing down the street, and anyone further down would have a nasty surprise if they followed the stream.

He was dragged down into the crowd, screaming and kicking furiously but to no avail.

A few hours later, a lone pickup truck drives past the scene, surveying the carnage. Three men sit in the back, heavily armed with M4 Carbines. They wear black uniforms, with a snake with an arrow in its mouth patched onto their bulletproof vests. They stop the truck, and the men in the bed disembark from the vehicle. They walk around the bodies, kicking the policemans body over then giving a disappointed sigh when they see the bullet hole in the mans forehead. Scott wakes up, sitting up and looking around. He notices the men and a primal growl sounds from his mouth. He stands up, alerting the men and more undead that were in the area. Some bodies start to rise from the road, and walk towards the men. The group don't seem phased by the threat, but instead run to the truck and grab a strange looking weapon. They fire it at Scott, and a net soon surrounds his body then slowly tightens so that he cannot move. They do the same to another man, before the others with the assault rifles open up on the crowd. They soon finish up any stragglers and grab the two nets, throwing a bag over the head of the infected. One man keys his radio once, and a black van drives down the motorway. Men in biohazard suits step out of the van, throwing the undead into the back. The van drives away back up the motorway, and out of sight.

The man with the labcoat climbs back into the pickup, turning towards the three men with him.

"Good job, now we can see if we can get a cure for this thing. We go back to base, do our tests on these ones too. Hopefully it will turn out better than the last ones."

The other three men nodded, then climbed into the back. The man in the labcoat banged his fist on the cab, telling the driver to take them back to base.

A/N- Finally another chapter! Please, your comments are always appreciated, whether your telling me how bad the chapter is or just commenting on the events, it all helps people!


	7. Frank Jacobs

One after another Chapter 6

Prison Officer Frank Jacobs

Louisiana Maximum Security Prison

Diary #1

Hi,

So I've decided to write a diary to log the events that seem to be taking place around the world. According to the Warden, we are to stay at the prison until an Army unit passes through the area to take the prisoners to a secure military base for enlistment. I don't like this idea one bit! This is a maximum security institute, these prisoners are rapists, murderers, child killers and god knows what else. I tend to ignore the prisoners, I do my job which is to keep them in line. Every now and then I turn a blind eye to a rapist getting beat up, as long as they don't take it too far. Most of the guards here aren't very pleased to hear the news that they're to be staying, we just want to be at home with our families. Captain seems to think that we'll be here a while, so he's decided to order us a months worth of supplies should things get bad here. The military also brought us some equipment and ammo from the National Guard base nearby. I don't think we need all of this to take down some protestors though, seems like overkill if you ask me. And since when is lethal force authorised on protestors anyway? However the supplies should keep us safe long enough for the military to regain control. Well, I hope so anyway.

So, not much is happening at the minute, so I guess I have time to talk about what has been happening. There's been talk by some of the visitors of mass riots. I watched the news earlier, and it seems that it is indeed true. Can't watch the news anymore though, our TV cut off to the Emergency Broadcast. Same on all channels. Fucking rioters! I don't know why they're rioting, but it seems that every major country is having incidents. We've seen very little down here in the South. My sister in LA says that the military have declared martial law and have begun setting up checkpoints. Last I heard was that she was being evacuated. It worries me that this is happening, and I pray for my family. I'm not a religious man by all means, but its times like this that everyone finds their faith. Oh, listen to me babble on, it's time for my watch now, so I'll pick this up tomorrow I guess.

Bye for now,

Frank.

Diary #2

Hi,

My rounds went by fine last night. The prisoners are still calm, well, calm for prisoners anyway. We haven't told them about what's happening on the outside.

Its better that way, we don't want to panic them and have a full scale riot on our hands. We're telling them that visiting hours are temporarily closed while we have the front of the prison renovated. They seem to be buying it, but eventually questions will be asked, and I'm not sure who is going to come up with the answers. I hope by that point that the military will have taken the prisoners of our hands and I can go home to my family. God, I hope they are okay. Today the army sent up some doctors to perform some psychological checks on the prisoners. I hope that the prisoners are bat crazy and avoid getting called up. You know its bad when they call murderers and rapists up.

Laters,

Frank.

Video Log #1

[The video camera attached to Frank's shoulder starts recording. Frank moves around what seems to be an armoury. His arm reaches out for an AR-15 on the shelf of weapons. He looks to his left, the camera following him, revealing what seems to be hundreds of weapons lined up in large racks. Frank walks to a box, grabbing three clips out. He walks over to an ammo box, filling each clip with bullets. When he is finished, he turns to the right, showing various different handguns and shotguns. He grabs a Glock 17, and two already loaded clips for it. He slides the weapon into his holster and picks up his rifle that he had laid on the bench. Another guard can be seen arming himself. He grabs a vest, sliding it over his head and fastening it up. The guard walks over to Frank.]

"You heard about the doctors coming up? They say its just for medical checks, but I'm not so sure. They want to set themselves up in the old C-block. As long as they stay out of my way, then I'm good with that. Oh, I forgot to tell you. You know when Tim said he had been mugged? Well, the guy that mugged him bit him on the hand, strange eh? Captain sent him home anyway, scowled him for turning up to work looking like shit." The guard chuckled to Frank.

[A voice, what is assumed to be Frank, starts speaking.]

"I don't like it Tony, think about it, these are cold-blooded killers being let loose and trusted with the responsibility and the safety of innocent civilians. I'm going to the Captain later, to voice my concerns."

[Tony sighs, looking towards Frank]

"Frank, just leave it bro. It's not up to us or the Captain. The US Government ordered a military draft of everyone under 35, a national emergency they said. There is nothing that we can do now." Tony says, almost pleadingly.

"I know, I just don't want to fight beside a man that slaughtered innocent people. What about Bill eh? He killed two young girls in a botched robbery, and they expect us to fight with them, like brothers-in-arms? First chance I get, I'm putting a bullet in their back before they do it to us. We may wear the same uniform, fight under the same flag, but we're still guards, they're still prisoners. Anyway, lets go welcome the docs." Frank says, shaking his head in frustration.

[Tony nods. Frank follows him out of the armoury and down some hallways. Eventually, they both reach a door. Tony opens it, stepping into a large courtyard. Surrounding this are four large brick buildings. He walks down between one of the buildings to another yard, this one slightly longer. It is all fenced off with large chain fences topped with barbed wire. Armed guards patrol the perimeter, watching the prisoners inside. Tony walks past this courtyard to a path leading to the main gates. He steps into the booth behind the second gate, while Frank steps into a tower. He climbs the staircase, arriving at a small room at the top with a guard sat in a chair. He nods to him as he steps outside. He waves to the guards at the other towers and then looks down towards the first gate. Around ten guards are lined up behind the gate. Coming up the road is a small military convoy, led by two Humvees, followed by numerous military trucks. The first gate is opened, and the lead Humvee enters the area between the gates. A man dressed in fatigues steps out of the passenger side and walks over to the Warden. A brief exchange of words takes place and then he gets back in the Humvee and the second set of gates are opened. The convoy now drives through the other set of gates and into the car park. Soldiers climb out of the trucks, forming a line from the trucks to the door. Equipment is now being unloaded and passed down the line. A guard motions for Frank to come down, so Frank descends the stairs and makes his way to the car park. He is sent to the door, where a military Sergeant is barking orders out to the men stacking the equipment up. Frank walks over to him.]

"Sergeant. You called for me?" Frank says to him.

"Ye- Goddamit! Turn that goddamn camera off will ya? Are you trying to piss me off?" The sergeant yelled at him. The camera pans downwards, then the video stops.

Diary #3

Hi again,

Sorry about earlier, Mike, the sergeant from earlier, wasn't too happy with me filming him. Well, he seems like a decent guy, so maybe he is just camera shy. Well, I'll pick up from where the video left off. Mike asked me to take him down to their requisitioned cells, he said he wanted to case the joint. I did just as he asked and led him down, nothing special really, until later on when he told me to clear solitary confinement too. That strikes me as odd. You see, the 'cage' as the inmates call it, is next to the cell block that the military have, but I don't understand why the military need it cleared. Its not like the prisoners are going anywhere. But orders are orders, and it seems like the military are co-running this place now. They do their own patrols, eat in the cafeteria with us, and some even watch the prisoners. However, guards are no longer allowed in cell block C or the cage. Strange if you ask me, but I know better than to argue. Speaking of strange things, the soldiers here seem on edge too. They patrol the walls looking outwards, fingers itching on their triggers. They don't talk to us guards much either, only to tell us that they'll take over our watch. If they keep this up, there'll be nothing for us to do. They've also upped our security. They moved some humvees armed with to the front gates. Seems a little extreme, but its no longer up to us. Anyway, my watch now.

Bye for now,

Frank

Diary #5

Holy shit!

Something fucked up happened on my watch. One of the soldiers completely lost his mind, he went fucking crazy! Started saying that we're all going to die, that our families are all dead. The scary thing is, he genuinely looked scared. I mean, why would trained soldiers be scared of a few unarmed protestors? It doesn't make sense. Well, after his charade, the soldier ordered a guard at gunpoint to open the gates and then ran off into the darkness. Now the other soldiers are even more alert, and they've even set up sandbag positions behind the main gate. Prisoners are no longer allowed outside, and our watches have been drastically reduced. The military have taken over authority of the prison, authorised by the Warden. They seem to be treating us more and more like prisoners. We don't even control the armoury anymore. They supply us with our weapons only when we're on watch. All weapons are confiscated again after your watch has finished. Strange. It's almost like we're becoming prisoners ourselves.

Frank.

Diary #6

I think I'm losing my mind.

Walked through some of the cell blocks today, and some prisoners seem to have disappeared. B-124 and B-128 are missing, but I don't see how they could have escaped. I asked a the captain if I could look through the CCTV footage, however, between 2am and 4:30am, all the camera's are down. It also seems that all the camera's in C-Block have all been turned off. I don't know whether it is just me, but I don't trust those army guys. I'll talk to the Warden later.

Frank

Diary #7

I finally get to leave today. Well, not permanently. The soldiers are going to check on the town. We lost contact with the local police station, something about insane people attacking them. We're taking a couple of Humvees and a truck down to the town to check things out. We're going in with the Army on this one. We have local knowledge, so it makes sense. We're taking 12 guards, including me and 18 of the army guys. Anyhow, I'll make another video log.

Frank

Video log #2

[The camera pans in on Frank's face, before zooming out again. Frank looks dishevelled. His features are rough after spending weeks cut off from the outside world. Stubble has grown on his face, resembling that of a homeless man. His hair is messy, un-kept. Dark bags have formed under his eyes, giving him a weary look. Frank sighs, before turning the camera forward.]

"My adventure, part one." he says to himself, chuckling.

[He walks into the armoury, grabbing a Remington 870 and a Glock 17. He grabs a spare clip for the Glock and loads the shotgun, stuffing a handful of shells into his coat pocket, zipping it up. The camera pans to Tony, who gives a friendly wave, before Frank goes around some of the other guards.]

"Say hi Ben." Frank says to the first guard.

"Hi Ben." He says mockingly, smirking at the camera.

"Douche bag." Frank replies.

The camera pans around 5 other guards in the room, revealed as Mitch, Robert, Lisa, Daniel and Marcus.

Mitch steals the camera of Frank, turning it to Lisa and zooming in on her lower body.

"Get a load of that ass!" He shouts, receiving laughs from Robert and Marcus. Lisa flips him the bird before Frank steals the camera back.

[Before they can proceed any further, a soldier enters the armoury. An uncomfortable silence fills the room as the soldiers gear up. A few of the soldiers throw glances towards the guards, sniggering and laughing as they do so. Mitch starts to stand up, before Lisa pulls him back down.]

"Calm down. Same team, remember?" She says, trying to ease him back into his seat.

[Frank approaches the supply sergeant. He fills out a few forms, stating how much ammunition he has took and what weapons. He starts to walk off, but before he can the supply sergeant stops him.]

"You're not going like that." He sternly says, asserting his authority.

"Why not?" Frank replies.

"Guards are required to wear riot gear in case the protesters are still there, that a problem? What's with the camera?" He asks.

"No problem at all, sorry sir. The camera is for a video log that I'm making, documenting my experience during this crisis."

"Good, didn't think so. Make sure it doesn't affect you're ability to do your job."

"Noted." Frank replies, clearly irritated.

[Frank leaves the room, putting on his riot gear, before exiting into the yard and climbing into the second Humvee at the back of the convoy. A soldier climbs onto the .50 cal whilst Mike gets into the front passenger seat and Tony gets into the rear passenger seat. Ahead of them is the truck full of a mix of guards and soldiers, the guards looking uncomfortable in their riot gear. Ahead of the truck the other Humvee sits idly, the Major being one of the occupants. The first set of gates are opened, then as the convoy enters the second area, the gates behind close and the second set are opened, as regulations state. The convoy leaves the confines of the prison and heads down the open road. Surrounding the side of the road fields stretch as far as the eye can see. As Frank and Tony converse, the camera catches a figure walking towards what looks like the outline of a cow, before throwing itself onto it. Frank and Tony, continue their conversation, oblivious to the mysterious actions of the figure. Further down the road, the convoy stops next to a car at the side of the road. The door of the vehicle is slightly ajar, the hinges creaking as it sways in the wind. The outside of the door has a large streak of blood slapped across the surface. The atmosphere has suddenly become tense, and Mike readies his weapon. Up ahead, two soldiers exit the truck and head towards the car, their weapons raised. The first reaches the door, and pulls it open, quickly stepping backwards and aiming his weapon. In the background, a faint clicking can be heard as the gunner readies his 50. Cal. The vehicle appears to be deserted, so both soldiers start their search of the vehicle. Mike gets out and orders some of the troops to set up a perimeter. Immediately, the soldiers disembark and set up a meagre defence around the vehicle. A search finds some ID papers that identify the driver as the local priest, yet according to Mike he is nowhere to be seen. The camera pans around to Tony, who's face is extremely pale.]

"Yo, you alright man?" Frank says to him. At first Tony doesn't answer, instead choosing to stare at the bloodied door in front of him, before eventually turning to the camera.

"Err, yeah I guess, I mean, this is some scary shit but I don't know, like, where's the driver Frank? I've known Father McAllister for years, and I can't find a reason for anyone to attack the man." Tony sounds disheartened as he tries to comprehend what has happened.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure we'll find the people responsible for this. The father could still be alive somewhere, or the local police have already picked him up?" Frank replies, trying to sound optimistic.

"You really believe that shit? If the locals had been here, this place would have been cleaned up by now, you see? Does this look fucking clean to you?"

[The major interrupts the rest of the conversation by walking over. He clears his throat, and both men immediately stop talking and turn to face the tall figure in front of them.]

"We're rolling out again. I'm leaving a couple of men to go search the surrounding woods to see if we can find the occupant. Wherever he is, it can't be far. He's wounded, so it shouldn't be too hard to find him. In the meantime, we'll carry on to the police station. And from now on, we stop for nothing."

"Yes sir!" The two guards shout.

[The major walks over to some soldiers, pointing to several soldiers and sending them into the woods. The men hop back into their vehicles, and again head for the town. The Humvee bounces up and down as it progresses down the road. The roadside eventually clears, and the town can be seen in the distance. The town looks eerily deserted. The camera pans around to the front of the vehicle, focusing on the truck in front. They turn down a side road, passing various shops and homes, all with their doors wide open and windows smashed. Some homes look barricaded, however, these barricades are smashed as well. The camera turns to Tony, who stares out of the window in disbelief.]

"What the fuck happened here?" He says to Frank.

"Fuck if I know, you really think protestors hit the town?"

[Suddenly Mike grabs the camera, and places it on the dashboard, facing out of the window.]

"Listen to me carefully. The Major hasn't told you the whole truth about what's happened here. These aren't normal protestors that we're dealing with. Sure, they look like people, but they aren't. Not anymore. You ever seen them horror movies? Dawn of the Dead? Night of the Living Dead? Well, that's what we're facing, zombies. We tried to cover it up, but its spread too far. Now we're alerting everyone as to what is really happening before there isn't anyone left to save. Now, these things, classic zombie knowledge, go down with a shot to the head, nothing else. They bite you, you suffer the same fate as them. There is no cure, so the best thing to do is put a bullet in your head before you turn. Don't try to talk to them, they won't listen. From now on, you're food to them. When we get to the station, stay alert. We're expecting the worse from now on, as should you. That way, we lose fewer men, and help shape the odds into our favour. Now, we estimate the population of this town to be around 3000, give or take. Now, we left 5 men back at that car, so that leaves us 5 rifles shorter. Now, these odds aren't at all in our favour, but we have weapons. If we can keep them at bay, we might be able to take them on. We have the 50's on the humvees, 600 rounds each. That's a last case scenario however. 50's are primarily for suppressing an enemy. This enemy isn't conventional, and conventional tactics won't work. All we'll be able to do with the 50's is cut them up. Same for grenades, last resort only. Word of advice, keep check of your ammo. And remember, save a bullet for yourselves, it's the best way to go, you don't want the alternative. With that said, when we get to the station, our soldiers will go in whilst you guards block the main doors with your shields. We'll take positions in the windows above you and fire down, and hopefully decimate their numbers, the-"

"Sir," Tony interrupted, "That seems awfully dangerous to me. What if the line falls?"

"I was getting to that. Should the line fall, you'll fall back to the lobby doors, under covering fire, and take up defensive positions again. Hopefully by this time, we'll have rescued any survivors inside, and we'll get the vehicles to pick us up. By the way gentlemen, there is no plan B. If shit goes south, then just focus on getting out of there, alive. If you can grab survivors, then do so, but make sure you get out. We'll rendezvous at the local department store. Head up to the roof, and we'll barricade the door and radio for evac. Is this understood?" Mike asked them both.

"Yes sir! I still need to get my head around it, but I suppose that can wait." Frank replied.

[Mike hands the camera back to Frank. The humvee rocks from side to side as they run over bodies littering the road in front of the station. Gunshots can be heard from ahead as the soldiers pick off any stragglers trying to get to the occupants inside the vehicles. The camera starts to shake as Frank's breathing intensifies, who is clearly becoming agitated. The humvee skids to a halt, and Mike shouts for them to exit the vehicle. Frank mounts the camera back on his shoulder, then readies his shotgun. The sound of battle erupts as Frank opens the door and exits. Up ahead, a guard is being set upon by four of the zombies. The tear at his riot gear, desperate to get a taste of the flesh inside. The guard screams in fear, all the while struggling to get out from underneath them. Frank runs over, dragging one of the zombies off of him. He hits it in the head with his Remington, before dragging another one off and doing the same.

The guard manages to break free of the other two, pulling himself to his feet. He turns and aims his rifle at the first zombie. In her time, she would have been a real eye catcher, but now, her nightgown is covered in blood, and her face is missing half its flesh. Her top lip no longer exists, now all that remains are stained teeth, snarling at the guard. He fires into her head, and she slumps to the ground. Another zombie, this one dressed in a once-smart business suit, lunges at Frank. Frank lifts his shotgun, sending a round into the face of the zombie, obliterating what was left. The other guard points to the station door, where guards equipped with riot shields are taking their positions. Frank nods and runs over, occasionally turning around and firing at the zombies pursuing him. They both squeeze through the main doors, before grabbing a riot shield themselves and taking up positions behind the first line. The line rocks forwards and backwards as the dead try desperately to break through. The soldiers in the rooms above open fire, hoping to try and thin the numbers. The line starts to get pushed back as one of the guards falls forwards. The guards next to the guard drop their shields to pick up the guard. From this a domino effect occurs. The line collapses in the middle, and the dead swarm in through the gap. Soldiers rush down into the lobby and fire into the gap, hitting both the dead and the guards in the process. Mike screams for them to fall back behind the lobby doors, but to no avail. The guards and soldiers both start to panic, running off in different directions. Chaos ensues, and the zombies take no mercy on the helpless men and women in the station.

The zombies tackle the humans to the ground, gnawing at their body armour. A soldier screams in agony as an old woman takes a chunk out of his neck. A resounding gunshot ends his cries of pain. Frank breaks from the line, panicking. He heads through a set of double doors, the sounds of the battle dying down. Explosions can be heard as the soldiers fire their grenade launchers and throw their frags. Frank jumps around as the set of doors behind him swing open. He spots Tony and Mike running towards him, followed by a couple more soldiers. Mike motions for Frank to keep running, and behind him, the dead can be seen bursting through the doors after their meals. The group heads down a hallway, leading to the booking area. Blood covers the desks, and a few bodies with bullet holes in their heads lie on the ground. Mike closes the steel gate leading into the booking area. One of the soldiers searches some of the dead cops on the ground for a set of keys. The soldier finds a set, and throws them over to Mike. The soldiers run up and start firing through the gate whilst Mike desperately tries all the different keys to lock the door. With great determination and strength, zombies start to push open the gate, almost managing to squeeze their bodies through before Frank and Tony run over, shoving their bodies against the door. Hands reach through and grasp at Frank's clothing, trying to pull his arm through the gate. Frank throws his shotgun on the ground, drawing his pistol and firing it through the bars. The zombie grabbing him slumps to the ground, a neat bullet hole in its forehead. Mike breathes a sigh of relief as the lock finally clicks in place. They all back away from the door, making sure to grab the keys from the lock. They check the cells, and find them to be surprisingly clear. Mike slumps to the floor, exhausted. The other soldiers stare at the gate, staring at the blank faces of those wanting to kill them. One soldier starts to scream and shout at them, taunting them. He gets closer to the gate, almost within reaching distance before the other soldier grabs him and pushes him down to the ground]

"You trying to get yourself fucking killed man? She asks. She stares into his eyes, seeing the look of fear and defeat. He was scared, they all were.

"I-I-I don't know. I mean, what can we do? We're trapped in this fucking area aren't we? We're going to die here. If it's not by them, then we'll eventually starve." The soldier then starts to cry, and the woman rubs his shoulder, before walking over to one of the walls and sitting down.

"Okay," Mike says, grabbing everybody's attention, "I know shit looks bad right now, but this isn't the only way into this area. Some of the doors we locked lead to other parts of the station. So, tonight, we have some MRE's that we can eat and we'll sleep in the cells. Tomorrow morning, I'll unlock our cells and we'll find a way out of here."

[Frank turns the camera back to his face. His face is now covered in cuts, and blood stains his uniform. Down the right side of his face, a large cut has now formed, and is oozing blood.]

"Well, this is Frank signing off." Frank's voice sounds rough, almost monotone. The day that he has had seems to have sent him into a state of shock. He gives one last sigh before turning the camera off.

**A/N: Okay, sorry for the extremely long wait, been busy with sixth form and exams. However, I am back now, so expect regular updates, sort of. Tell me what you think of this too. This style of writing isn't my favourite, and I hardly ever write in present tense, I don't like too. But, criticism as always is appreciated. And I'm still looking for somebody to proof read these, so if you're interested let me know. Again this chapter was longer than I hoped for, so I'll come back to this at a later time.**

**And finally, I have a task for you.**

**Either by PM or review, choose a character that you want to save from this story, and they will get their own spin off series. **

**Either,**

**Tony,**

**Mike,**

**Male soldier (William)**

**Female soldier (Scarlet)**

**And that is that. If you have read, then thank you.**

**Adios…**


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